


Blank Space

by LuthienLuinwe



Category: X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Daddy Issues, Fic stops right before the actual sex, Hate Sex, M/M, POV Pietro Maximoff, Rough Sex, Top Scott
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-25
Updated: 2020-02-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:27:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22900960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuthienLuinwe/pseuds/LuthienLuinwe
Summary: There was nothing romantic about it. Never had been. Never would be. Xavier’s favorite soldier and Father’s favorite scapegoat.It would be the last time, Pietro told himself. Just like he had the time before.And every time before that.
Relationships: Pietro Maximoff/Scott Summers
Kudos: 44





	Blank Space

**Got a long list of ex-lovers. They’ll tell you I’m insane. But I got a blank space, baby, and I’ll write your name.**

They were both fooling themselves if they thought this was something permanent. If they thought it could ever be. 

Because at the end of the day?

They’d been placed on opposite sides of the battlefield before they ever even knew what they were fighting for.

Pietro glared up at Scott as the older man pinned him against the wall.

He couldn’t even remember when they’d started doing this. Or why. Or if he even cared any more.

“Come on, Summers,” he snaked a hand behind Scott’s head, pulling him closer. “You can do better than that.”

He wasn’t even sure what he felt for the X-freak anymore. Every time Pietro looked at him, his stomach twisted and Pietro couldn’t remember if he was supposed to hate him or want him.

Every time Pietro looked at him, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to kiss him or kill him.

He started to say something else, but Scott’s mouth was against his own before he could blink. He’d been too slow, and for once he wasn’t sure he minded.

There was nothing romantic about it. Never had been. Never would be. Xavier’s favorite soldier and Father’s favorite scapegoat.

Didn’t they make a fine pair?

Pietro broke the kiss first. “You know I hate you.” Even though he wasn’t sure he  _ did  _ hate Summers anymore. Even though he knew he was still supposed to.

They weren’t that different, much as Summers would die before he admitted it.

Pawns in a game that had started before they’d even been thought of. Expendable pieces fighting a war that wasn’t their own.

Scott dug his hands into Pietro’s hips hard enough to bruise. Not that it mattered. They’d heal by the time Pietro left. They always did.

“Believe me, Maximoff,” Pietro gasped when Scott bit his shoulder, just where it connected to his neck. “I hate you too.”

He couldn’t remember how this had started. Who had come on to who. 

The line had been clearly marked, and neither of them had bothered to pay any attention to it.

“Are we gonna sit here talking about how much we hate each other?” Pietro questioned, gasping when Scott bit him again. “Or are you gonna fuck me like you came here to do?”   


“Shut up,” Scott glared.

“Make me.”

Pietro grinned when Scott grabbed him by the arm, pulling him away from the wall and all but shoving him down onto the bed.

He propped himself up on his elbows, a wicked grin on his face. 

It wasn’t like they needed to worry about getting caught. Pietro could be out of the manor before anyone realized he was there.

He watched as Scott threw his own shirt off, tossing it aside like it was nothing. 

This had to stop.

It would be the last time, Pietro told himself. Just like he had the time before. 

And every time before that.

He shut his eyes when Scott pushed him back down against the bed and raked his nails down Summers’ back. 

Father would kill him if he ever found out. And maybe, Pietro thought, that was part of the thrill. 

He pulled his shirt off when Summers started tugging at it.

Scott was rougher than usual, not that Pietro minded. Or cared. Probably something to do with whatever the hell was going on between Jean and Logan and God only knew who else.

He’d never been naive enough to think he was anything more than a second choice.

Scott was a giver, at least when it came to everyone else. He gave and he gave until he had nothing left to give.

It would kill him one of those days.

Pietro would know.

He had died on the inside a long time ago, everything gone to Father who did nothing but take.

“Get on with it already,” he kicked off his jeans and started on Scott’s khakis.

He knew which buttons to push. He could goad Summers all night long. Push and push until he pushed him away. He could push them all if he wanted to.

Maybe they’d both be better off for it.

It would be the last time, Pietro told himself as Scott positioned him like he was nothing. 

It would have to be.


End file.
